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Pictures of chickens

Having a drink

I seem to have worked out how to add pictures, though it needs a bit more comprehension on my part to get them as I want them – anyway, here are some of the most recent photos (we’ve moved the run since then, so they have grass again), followed by a repeat of a very early one. You’d hardly think those little yellow fluffs had changed that much in four weeks.

The big hens have been to visit the house a few times now. I always did love it, back in the old days, when that happened, and missed them when I had to shut them in. On this occasion, I didn’t happen to have any corn but I had found the remains of a packet of pine nuts in the fridge. They seemed happy with that, as well they might be.

I’ve put a piece of board jutting over the run, so that I can put some food down without having always to clamber over the wire and crawl into the coop, whilst keeping it dry. Rummy thinks it’s a splendid viewing platform. None of the cats has ever gone for a chicken, though I wouldn’t trust a cat with a chick. Of course, the end has to be weighted down and I use a full watering can, which weighs a lot more than Rummy does. About twice as much, in fact. I’ve put a bigger board down today, so that they can have a feeder with chick crumbs and another with mixed corn (they’re too young for layer’s pellets) which was mostly for Canasta to start with, but they’re gradually moving on to it. I’ve also ordered more grit, having been surprised by how much they eat of it. The grit I provide for the other chickens (though they can eat whatever earth or stones they like outdoors) has oyster shell in it which, again, isn’t suitable for a growing chick though it’s ideal for a laying hen.

Yesterday, Polly – Rose’s black bantam – legged it out of the greenhouse as soon as I’d opened the door of their shed. I suspected she’d gone to lay an egg, but I didn’t know in which direction she’d gone. I’m reasonably sure she is laying somewhere, but these bantams have always been notorious for laying away. I thought that today, I’d keep the greenhouse door shut until I was ready to follow her. Sure enough, she strode out as soon as she could. She turned right. Fair enough, I hadn’t looked for eggs that way. Then she turned left. Ah. I observed from a distance. She went to share the barn cats’ breakfast. Unlike the big hens, she didn’t intimidate the cats and one ate from one side of the plate while she helped herself from the other. I don’t know whether it’s what she does every day – which is pretty smart if she does – or if she is actually laying away and just wasn’t quite ready yet. I’ll keep watching … and report back, obvs.

Next post will be about something other than chickens. I’m sure it will. I have a life, don’t I?

2 comments on “Pictures of chickens”

They are very pretty, all different. I was hoping that one of them would be like their mum, but I don’t think so. Canasta and her sister Scrabble are very similar – if any of Scrabble’s eggs hatch, perhaps one of them. Though the cats aren’t foolish enough to go for the chickens, they’d have no hesitation about an unguarded chick, I’m sure. But we have sparrow hawks and other predators, so can’t let them out until they’re fully grown anyway.

The Unobservant Eye of Z

Dramatis personae:
My husband, Lovely Tim or LT for short (though he is actually tall).
My late husband, the Sage, aka Russell.
My children: Dearest daughter Weeza, who has London Ways, is married to Phil. Their daughter is Zerlina Buttercup and their son is Augustus Bufo. Elder son - Al X, is married to Dilly. Their children are Squiffany Virgilia, Maximus Pugsley and Hadrian Swallow. Younger son - Ro married to Dora and their two-year-old is Rufus Russell.
Big Sister: Wink. She lives in Wiltshire, 230 miles away, but we're much closer than that.
We live with our cat Eloise, a black tortoiseshell half-Ragdoll.
Bantams live in the garden and cats live in the barns but we feed them and they have ambitions to be pets too. In addition, cows come to visit in the summer. Mostly, they stay in the fields. None of them has got a hoof in the door yet.
There is an annexe to the house, where Roses lives and her beloved, Lawrence, spends a lot of time there. Her son, Boy, lives there too.

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Updating takes too much memory, sorry - but then I'm not very young any more, so am hanging on to the memory I've got. Please don't look for any significance in the order - I'm not drunk but I am disorderly.

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